


play it again (a discourse)

by cbalazeit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: ...um, Death of Major Characters, M/M, READ THE DESCRIPTION!!!!!!!!!!!!, but in the OTHER story, continuation of a story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:18:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9112402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cbalazeit/pseuds/cbalazeit
Summary: Sometimes you read a fic that wrecks you and just...have to write about that.Thoughts on the brilliant fic "Play It Again" by metisket.Read here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/132147 before reading this or it won't make sense.The creation of this universe and its spin on the characters are all metisket's, I am simply a humble reader who was itching to write more about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In order to understand this, first read play it again by metisket 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/series/132147
> 
> (aka an EPIC story about jumping universes) Many moons ago I read the story and was so freaking moved by it (like legit I couldn't sleep it wrecked me that hard), I had to write some stuff about it. 
> 
> This is me torturing myself further. But most importantly, this is honestly me being like metisket you are a genius and your fic broke me. The characterization of stiles was beautiful and i just couldnt continue my life without getting all these feelings out. i hope this translates correctly as in i write this bc that fic K I L L E D me and i cannot live my normal IRL life without talking more abt how fucked stiles is for life!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> so TL;DR: read the good fic first, then my meta trash and lastly i really hope this is not taken in a bad way like seriously this fic changed me and i rlly hope no one is offended cause thats the OPPOSITE of what im going for!!!

* * *

Stiles chose to stay.

 

Derek is dead in the other universe, who knows if he even has a body to come back to, all his friends are dead and life is generally a total shitstorm of death, violence, lies and scars that will never fade.

In this universe, this new shiny alternate universe, Derek trusts him. Derek doesn't wear a leather jacket that smells like smoke, Laura sasses him and steals his bacon when he has breakfast at the Hales' and there's adults who actually  _take care of shit_. 

 

But. 

 

But that doesn’t mean Scott and the Sheriff from the old universe are dead. They ~~are~~ ~~probably~~ could be still alive. It could be that– they’re alive and they think Stiles is dead and everyone they care about is dead and maybe all they have left is the two of them, and some street name in Argentina that dead, long-dead Stiles wrote down in a piece of paper with a promise to meet them there.

* * *

 

The Sheriff and the Scott from the old universe's and the Sheriff and the Scott from the new universe’s lives can’t be compared, weighed against each other to see who’s worthier of being saved.

 

But.

 

But at the same time, if Stiles was as selfless as some people think he is, he’d go back.

He’d go back to the broken, old universe because he’d know that in the new one,  ~~his pack~~ people would survive the goodbye.

Scott would have Allison and Isaac and and Boyd and Erica– Erica, a werewolf with a pack who's never been hunted or felt a arrow pierce the meaty flesh of her thigh. None of them would be led by an unstable, grief-driven alpha who was never meant to be an alpha. Of course, there would be pleading and begging, Derek and the Hales having taken in Stiles, not being to imagine Stiles gone, not sitting in the counter, in the library, in Derek's bedroom in his bed, the light from the window slanted, warming his skin against the blue covers. 

Even the Sheriff, who’s lost his wife and now his own kid too– even he would be okay, eventually. He’d start coming to Hale lunches, flip the trope of the Sheriff stepping in as Derek’s father figure on its head, have the Hales stepping in as family, at the end of the day he still has more than poor mourning Sheriff from old universe who not only doesn’t  _know_  about werewolves but has spent the better half the last year  _knowing_  his own son is lying about the bags under his eyes and the scars he thinks he can’t see and the nightmares that tint his voice, his expression, the set of his jaw and it doesn’t even matter that Stiles lied to him, because Stiles is dead and so is the Hale boy and Beacon Hills is no longer the town he’d sworn to protect, it’s something uglier, it’s not home anymore.

And Scott. Scott who yes got the wolfy powers and the girl, but now has graves instead of friends and who’s best friend got killed because he wasn’t there. (I don’t see an AU universe where Stiles dies and Scott doesn’t blame himself. It just isn’t possible.)

* * *

 

One could argue that maybe…maybe…Stiles’ nightmare, where Scott gets torn into pieces by alphas, where Stiles’ dad just walks down the street, unaware that the same fate awaits him. Maybe that was real, that was the reality of the old universe. And Stiles going back to that would be Stiles committing himself to a life of misery and such painful, heart-wrenching loneliness, who really knows how he’d survive.

If Stiles was totally selfless, he’d go back despite all this because we don’t know, he doesn’t know if they’re dead or alive and if they are alive, they are alone. 

But Stiles is selfish, and despite all appearances, has hope that he might be happy one day. He says he kind of misses his scars but he likes his smooth skin, his brand new body that doesn’t ache when he wakes up. 

Maybe Stiles would’ve dedicated more hours, more days, more months into finding a way to go back. Or a way to see what happened. Or  _anything._

Even if Stiles didn’t look into it, that he didn’t spend night after night searching, asking, researching, going half-crazy not knowing what happened to the old Scott and Sheriff, there are many many years and possibly an entire lifetime of contradiction.

Months, ~~maybe even years~~ waking up next to Derek, who’s breathing peacefully, who’s most definitely not Hypervigilant as danger and burned down houses and sisters cut in half are so so  _so_ far from his reality, he doesn’t even stir when Stiles slides out of bed, when he sits by the window, thinking of a black swirling tattoo, two bodies treading water, angry bitter arguments,  _this is private property_. and it doesn’t make sense to miss that, to miss the ugly unspoken grief that seeped into every moment he had with old Derek but he does. And he misses Scott even though he’d seen him that night, they’d played mario kart, jostling each other, fighting for the best remote control and he misses his dad even though in the old universe, his dad was always tired and the whiskey bottle was left in a cupboard and not the highest shelf, it was easier to reach then. 

Sometimes, there is an awkward moment. Like when Stiles is pushing it and everyone in the room can feel that irritation (the  _fond_ irritation) radiating of Derek. He’ll reach out to Stiles, whose surprise that he’s being pulled into an embrace rather than shoved against a wall will make the werewolves flinch or when Kate finally comes down to BH for Allison’s graduation and leaves promptly after Stiles holds a knife to her throat in the corner of the supermarket. 

Or whenever there’s a supernatural issue (read: omega werewolves, meddling pixies, witches who place burial grounds in very inconvenient places) and Stiles begins sketching out plans, his mind moving faster than his mouth, eyes focused until–

–“Stiles?” And there’s Laura touching his arm, with a confused expression and Derek standing by his side cause he knows and there’s Stiles feeling so uneasy, watching the adults go deal with everything, cause they’re just kids, it’s not their responsibility– Stiles wants to laugh to cover up the ugly swelling in his chest, the rage he feels at how unfair it is, when everyone comes back safe and sound, the witch dealt with, the pixies expelled, the werewolves accounted for. He feels the anger choking him, and Derek stands by his side, not saying a word. This Derek is surprisingly understanding in a way that Stiles didn’t expect. Then again he’s never had to turn off everything inside him so the grief didn’t swallow him whole. 

Sometimes, Stiles lets himself imagine it. A werewolf and a sheriff, limping down a street in Microcentro in Buenos Aires, a local alpha who’d let them inside a house, gave them shelter, maybe a little untrustworthy at first, alarmed even but concerned and willing to offer a small piece of kindness. His d– the Sheriff, scowling as he struggles to learn Spanish, gruffly muttering he is too old for this thing. Scott making all the women at the bakery fall in love with his sweet brown eyes and his eager attempt to speak their language. Two lives, devastated, shattered at the core but not totally broken beyond hope. 

Sometimes, when Derek is running his hands through his hair as he sits on the porch of the Hale house, overlooking the yard, the twins shrieking in delight as Peter stalks after them, pretending to be a monster ( _the irony_ ), and he can hear Laura and her mom arguing about silly things like who left the iron on or Laura’s illegal use of the archives, he’ll remember something stupid. Like the time he triggered that trip wire and Scott was left hanging by the ankle, his silhouette outlined by a burned down char of a house, Allison stifling her giggles beside him or the first time Erica called him batman or the time he scored that epic game-winning goal and he could see his dad on the bleachers, this huge proud smile on his face. these stupid inconsequential memories that’ll hit him like a freight train– and then this feeling, so tight on his chest, like a vice gripped around his bloody battered heart, so tight he’ll be unable to move, unable to breath, only able to sit and wait, for that wave of guilt and sorrow and anger at the unfairness that he got everything he wanted and lost it all because of the skid of wheels on asphalt and clumsy driving and a maniacal werewolf wanting to kill and eat him but mostly because the universe doesn’t deal kindness and cruelty in clean, efficient cuts. And Derek will grip his hand and Laura will grip his other and Peter will sooth the twins who are frightened because Derek’s  mate  is radiating these epic waves of devastation and anguish. and it’ll pass. it’ll pass and the furrow in Derek’s brow will ease, slowly as the sharp sour taste of grief that permeated the air dissipates and Stiles will kiss Derek and live with himself because that is all he can do. 

_“Magic is just a shortcut, I get that. The price is still as high as if you’d done it by hand.”_

_“If not higher.”_

_“If not higher.”_


End file.
